


razzmatazz (bad dreams)

by benzaaldehyde



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Ghost Stories, Halloween, Horror, M/M, Smut, Spooky, let me live, possibly overly-gratutious smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benzaaldehyde/pseuds/benzaaldehyde
Summary: It's Halloween night, and Hinata and Kageyama are told a ghost story.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 29
Kudos: 115





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME to spookyfic!!!! thank you for even clicking on this!! i do hope you enjoy your read. a few notes first:
> 
> 1\. i don't call this spookyfic for no reason. i did try to make it at least a little bit creepy. if you are horror-averse, this may not be the fic for you. because i'm me though, there is smut here too! you are welcome to skip the horror and get to the sex, as god intended. ctrl-f to "Hinata snorted" if that's what you're here for.
> 
> 2\. mild tw for mentions of gore. there is no gore in the story itself, but there are references to gory scenes.
> 
> 3\. [SPOOKYFIC MOODBOARD HERE](https://i.imgur.com/iGO2tH3.jpeg) (better viewed on desktop)
> 
> 4\. title is from idkhow's song Razzmatazz. it's the song that inspired me to write a spooky kghn fic in the first place, so [do give it a listen!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JP2d7K63J4) it gives off some outrageously cool halloween vibes, i adore it.
> 
> i think that's it!! kill the lights, burn a candle, and cozy up with a warm blanket. let's get spooky.

"The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn't real. I know that, and I also know that if I'm careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle."

Stephen King, _Night Shift_

≠

“No, no seriously! That’s what he told me!”

“You’re so full of shit, dude!” Tanaka cackled, smacking Nishinoya’s back and hanging off his shoulder. Hinata arrived just in time to watch the beer Tanaka was holding slosh over the back of his hand. “How old do you think we are?”

“Look,” Noya said, looking more pissed off by the second, “all he said was that he saw her. I don’t think it’s that hard to believe.” He shrugged a very drunk Tanaka off him.

“What’s not hard to believe?” Hinata asked. Kageyama trailed behind him, weaving through the tipsy bodies swaying to music. It was Halloween night, and the house party was in full swing. They, and apparently Tanaka and Noya, were invited by some of the Karasuno first years that came on board after the third years graduated.

Even though Hinata’s only been out of college a year or so, he already felt too old for this scene. Costumes at the party were tacky and needlessly sexual. A couple dressed as a plug and socket were grinding in the living room. A pirate—who hitting on some sexy, zombie nurse—wore his eyepatch around his bare chest so it covered one nipple. A man dressed as a banana hastily shoved past Hinata when someone yelled, “shots!” from the kitchen. There were several people dressed as a character from a new Netflix show, and absolutely none of them pulled it off.

But it was Halloween, Hinata’s absolute _favorite_ time of year. While the guests of the party may not have warranted it, the house was charmingly decorated. It made Hinata’s heart swell with nostalgia. Cotton was stretched around the house, made to look like grotesque cobwebs. Garish, twinkling lights, orange and purple, served as the primary light source in the house, dangling from the ceiling and looping around stairwell beams. Lit pumpkins with Jack-o-Lantern grins sat out front, sitting amongst more cotton cobwebs and plastic spiders and Styrofoam gravestones. Artificial candles flickered about, and an outrageously cheesy Halloween playlist was currently blaring from the house speakers.

Oh, and his boyfriend was dressed as a vampire, who was awkwardly chewing on his plastic fangs to sip from the cup he held.

Hinata wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

“What’s not hard to believe?” Hinata asked again, interrupting Noya’s moaning about the amount of beer Tanaka spilled on him.

“Hinata!” Tanaka cheered, falling onto Hinata’s shoulders now. “Glad you could make it, little man!”

Hinata tried to shrug him off like he saw Noya do, but he was too heavy—a drunken dead weight. A beer-soaked sack of flesh. He guessed this was it. This was his life now.

“I like your costume! What are you supposed to be?” Tanaka asked, fingering his suspenders. “Escaped convict?”

Hinata looked down his body at what he felt was his fairly obvious mime costume. He was wearing an _ascot,_ for god’s sake.

“Ha, actually, uh—no, but good guess. I’m a—”

“Lemme get you a beer!” Tanaka shouted directly into his ear. “Kageyama, you want a drink?”

Hinata looked over at his boyfriend and saw him trying to free his vampire cloak from where it got hooked on a fairy’s wing. The fairy seemed keen on Kageyama, and she was flirtatiously muttering something in his ear while he worked to dislodge his cape. He paid her no mind, carelessly turning back toward Hinata and Tanaka when his cloak was free, raising his cup in a gesture that said _got my own, thanks._

Hinata rolled his eyes at the look of offense on the fairy’s face, but then Tanaka was gone and Hinata could move again. He took advantage of his new freedom to slide up to Nishinoya in one step.

“It’s great to see you guys! It’s been awhile!” Hinata yelled over the music to Noya, who still looked peeved by whatever he and Tanaka were talking about. “Did you bring Asahi?”

“Yeah, he’s outside.”

Kageyama walked up closer to join the conversation, pressing himself to Hinata’s side without a thought. When they started dating years ago, this was one of the first differences in Kageyama that Hinata noticed between being friends and being in a relationship with him. Kageyama liked touch, and he was always seeking contact in some way, even if it was something small—a hand on Hinata’s lower back, their pinkies linked between them, or even picking up Hinata’s hand himself and looping it through his arm.

Though generally, it was more in this way—full-body contact, enough that Hinata could feel warmth radiating from Kageyama’s body. After these years, his search for touch was less deliberate and more instinctive, like this. Some would call it clingy or needy, others would call it a blatant disregard for personal space. Hinata just found it endearing, and he was always delighted to indulge his boyfriend.

“What are you dressed as?” Kageyama asked Noya around his faux teeth.

Hinata inspected Noya’s hair—still gravity-defying, though tonight it was painted in black and white streaks. He was wearing a… what? A chiton?

Noya muttered something low, looking even more pissed off, and Hinata bent to hear him better.

“What’d you say?”

“I said, it goes with Asahi’s costume! It was his idea, don’t ask me.”

Hinata looked up to Kageyama then, who shrugged. He was about to turn back to Noya to ask more, but then Tanaka came barreling back into the group, bearing beers and Asahi. Asahi, who reeked of weed and wore what was distinctly a costume of Frankenstein’s Monster.

Hinata’s mouth dropped. _“Wah,_ Noya! You’re—”

“Look at my little bride,” Asahi cooed, gathering a grumbling Noya into his arms lovingly, kissing the side of his face. Noya swatted at him grumpily, but Asahi didn’t let go, laughing and happy and stoned, probably.

“Aren’t they cute,” Tanaka sighed, hooking his arm around Kageyama’s shoulders. “Fuck, I hate being single.”

“What ever happened between you and what’s-her-name?” Hinata asked.

“Shiori? She dumped me,” he shrugged with an air of forced casualness. He might as well have been inspecting his nails. “Said she wasn’t ready for someone like me, whatever that means. Guess she couldn’t handle all of _this.”_ He flexed his biceps ridiculously, muscles bulging from the sports jersey he wore as a lazy costume. He was jostled by a woman who clearly did not understand cultural appropriation, given her outfit, and Tanaka turned and immediately winked at her, flexing his bicep harder. “Wanna touch?”

To her credit, she shot him a look full of poorly-concealed disgust, before carefully maneuvering herself around him to escape.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Hinata heard Asahi murmur lowly to Noya.

Apparently, Tanaka heard him too because whirled away from the girl, not missing a beat, and cut in with, “He’s _fine,_ he’s just butthurt that his BFF lied to him back in col—”

“He didn’t lie!” Noya interrupted, managing to both cross his arms and look indignant while Asahi hugged him from behind like a giant, dopey koala. “And he wasn’t even my friend, he was my roommate’s friend.”

“What are you talking about?” Hinata asked.

“Akumu.”

Hinata and Kageyama stared at Noya’s face blankly. One could almost see the question marks form above their heads. Noya’s eyes flicked between the two idiots in front of him. “Akumu,” he said again, slowly, as if he were speaking to someone incredibly dense.

Which… was not untrue.

“Akumu,” he said _again,_ and Hinata decided he’d had enough.

“Yes, okay! _Nightmare!_ Did your roommate have bad dreams or something?”

“Noya!” Tanaka cackled, smacking Kageyama’s shoulder for some reason. Kageyama scowled. Tanaka didn’t notice. “I told you! No one knows your little story! It’s not like _Teke Teke_ or _Bloody Mary—”_

“It’s not a little—” he stopped, miffed. “No one knows it because it’s local! It happened in Miyagi.”

“I haven’t heard of it,” Kageyama said slowly. “And I grew up in Miyagi.”

“I grew up in Miyagi too!” Hinata announced proudly.

Kageyama looked down at him. “We all did, dumbass.”

“We haven’t heard of it because Noya’s boyfriend made it up,” Tanaka rolled his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer.

Asahi frowned. “Boyfriend?”

Noya looked about ready to pull his crusty, spray-painted hair out of his skull. “He’s not—! God! Roommate’s friend! And it was just something to mention, it being _Halloween_ and all. Get off my dick, you guys,” he grumbled, reaching for his drink.

Hinata turned to Tanaka. “What’s _Bloody Mary?_ Isn’t that…” His brow wrinkled. “… a drink?”

Tanaka’s eyes widened with sudden excitement, and he took a deep breath to jump straight into the tale. Kageyama winced preemptively. “No—well, yeah—but I’m glad you asked, my man! _Bloody Mary_ is a story about this super creepy—"

“No!” Noya interrupted, chopping the air once with a hand. “My turn to talk!”

And then there was silence. Noya’s eyes shot between the three of them, livid, though the effect was lessened by Asahi’s gentle presence behind him. Nothing was said for a beat or two, and then an impatient Hinata spoke up.

“Get on with it then! I wanna hear something spooky!”

At that moment, the party music changed, and Tanaka whooped loudly. “Fuck yeah! Guys! Dance with me!” He hooked his hands into claws as the beginnings of Michael Jackson’s _Thriller_ blared out over the house stereo. Without even checking to see if they followed, he was off, bopping his way into the living room.

Hinata blinked. Then he turned back to Noya. “Okay, tell us about your nightmares.”

“Akumu is a _name,”_ Noya corrected, finally continuing his story. Asahi released him to take a sip of his beer. “She is an urban legend, an _onry_ _ō._ Akumu is her—well, I guess, her _dog’s_ name. No one knows her real name.” He paused then, taking in their expressions. “I can’t believe—you guys really haven’t heard this story?”

Hinata and Kageyama exchanged a blank look, and Kageyama shook his head.

Though Hinata knew Noya was still probably pissed off—he always was—he could see understated delight soften his severe features as he started to get into the storytelling. “Well, there was a girl who was alive a long time ago. She lost her dog on Halloween night, and she was murdered while looking for it.” He paused, a grimace curling his expression. “I’ve… heard it was brutal.”

Hinata’s brows shot up, already wholly invested. “Brutal how?”

The glee on Noya’s face was not-so understated now. His voice was lowered, hushed, like he was telling them a secret. “I’ve heard a few different stories. One person told me that her face was slashed thirty-one times—" Hinata gasped. “—and he said there was so much carnage that her jaw was hanging onto her corpse by only a string of rotten flesh.”

“Ew, what the fuck?!” Hinata yelped.

Excited by the reaction, Noya continued, voice even lower. “I’ve also heard she had acid dumped on her, and it left her face and body so mangled, they couldn’t even use dental records to identify the body.” The volume of his voice was inversely proportional to his investment in the story. Clearly uncomfortable, Kageyama pressed closer to Hinata’s body. “Someone else said she was _mostly_ decapitated with a box-cutter and her head was—”

“Alright,” Kageyama interrupted. “We get it.”

“However she died,” Noya continued, “It was bad enough that they were never able to figure out who it was that died. They were only able to find out her dog’s name. Akumu.”

Thoughtful silence overtook the group for several beats before Asahi sighed morosely. “Why is it always women victimized in these stories.” He sipped his beer, expression somber and sober. “Misogyny is alive and well in our society.”

Silence.

“Anyway,” Noya said, and then picked up that hushed tone in his voice again. “The legend goes that on Halloween night, the one night of the year where the veil between life and death is thinnest, the night of her own death all those years ago, you can still find her around Miyagi, looking for her dog,” he concluded dramatically, his voice near a whisper.

Hinata looked to the ceiling, a question in his eyes. “So…” he started slowly, voice unintentionally just as quiet as Noya’s, “… what does that have to do with your room—”

Noya snapped his fingers suddenly. Hinata blinked, and Kageyama’s shoulders hitched against Hinata’s in a small startle. “Oh! He was from around here. He went to Wakutani South, actually.” He looked directly at Hinata. “He said he saw her once.”

Silence.

Then:

“… the dog?” Kageyama.

Noya shot him a look. “No.”

“The woman!” Hinata cheered, like he’d win a prize for guessing the only other possible answer. Then his eyes widened with dawning realization. “Wait, he _saw_ her?!”

“Mhmm,” Noya hummed, weirdly smug considering it wasn’t even his story. “He said she floated right through his bedroom.”

Kageyama asked what she was doing in his bedroom, but Hinata steamrolled him with his own questions, way too excited. “Wow! What did her face look like?! Was it all cut up and bloody?”

“Oh.” Noya’s face fell deathly serious. “If you ever see her, do _not_ look at her face. According to the _legend—”_ Kageyama gave a little snort, looking away, “—if you look at her face, she will kill you.”

Hinata gasped. “How would she kill me?”

“The same way she was killed,” Noya told him, shrugging. “However that was.”

“Does she carry acid around with her?” Kageyama asked. Because Hinata knew his boyfriend, he knew he was making fun of Noya. To the untrained ear, however, he sounded only curious. “Can ghosts carry things?”

“Wait,” Hinata cut in. “How did they find out her _lost dog’s name,_ but they couldn’t figure out who she was?”

“Well, she wasn’t recognizable after all that stuff was done to her!” He said, not really answering Hinata’s question, and then he turned to Kageyama. “And I don’t know if she carries acid with her! Fucking maybe she does! It’s just a story! You—”

“Okay,” Asahi interrupted, his tone clearly ending the conversation. He rubbed Noya’s shoulders—who was clearly tense and pissed off all over again—and used his grip on them to guide him to the glass doors. “Let’s go outside.”

Hinata waved goodbye even though their backs were turned to them, and then he looked up at his boyfriend who was tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. God, he was so cute. Hinata nudged his bicep with his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, not really having anything to say, he just wanted those blue eyes on him. They dropped down. His chin was almost touching his chest with how far down he had to look at Hinata, hair hanging over his eyes.

“Hey,” he responded, something teasing lurking behind his gaze.

Hinata’s eyes flicked down to his cup. “Want another one?”

Kageyama’s face didn’t change, he just regarded his boyfriend’s face with some fond warmth for a moment before darting forward like a bird to press a kiss Hinata’s cheek, near his mouth.

They enjoyed themselves at the party a little longer, drinking and laughing. Lots of people came up to flirt with Kageyama, and though it annoyed Hinata, Kageyama didn’t seem to notice them. It wasn’t until some guy dressed as a skeleton came up, cornering Hinata in the kitchen, did Kageyama step in and intervene. It wasn’t dramatic—nothing Kageyama did ever _was—_ all he did was wordlessly pull Hinata away from the guy, manually removing his boyfriend from him, then shooting a glare at the skeleton man.

And as Kageyama dragged him away, Hinata turned back to see that guy disappearing into the party. “You scared him off,” he said, slurring only a little bit. “Prolly ‘cause of _these_ bad boys,” he tapped Kageyama’s lips where an artificial white fang was peeking out. Kageyama spat his plastic teeth out somewhere and never bothered retrieving them.

At one point, Hinata managed to drag Kageyama out for one reluctant Halloween dance. He knew if this were years prior, Kageyama would have never said yes. He probably would have rolled his eyes and grumbled, _“I don’t dance, dumbass, especially not with you,”_ all grumpy in his Kageyama way, but Hinata knew that the years of putting up with him as his boyfriend have softened Kageyama, and he will indulge the shorter man in whatever dumb shit he wants to do from time to time.

Like dancing to awful Halloween music.

It wasn’t long before they realized the house that the Halloween party was held at was actually not very far from Karasuno. In a burst of slightly drunk inspiration, they decided to visit their old stomping grounds, and they bode Tanaka, Asahi, and a still-angry Noya farewell. The two of them left, a mime and a vampire, ambling through neighborhoods that were familiar to them lifetimes ago, shoulders knocking together as they went, giggling and buzzed.

Drunken Kageyama made Hinata’s heart swell. Sober, Kageyama was graceful and controlled. When Kageyama was drunk, it wasn’t like he lost control of himself, but he gained this sort of drunken lope to his gait. He was slow, he took too long to reply to things, and he laughed belatedly at immature jokes. All-around he seemed like a younger version of himself.

The touching definitely increased as well, and Hinata eventually gave up shouldering Kageyama away every few steps and allowed him to hang off him as they walked, stumbling a little as he waddled behind Hinata. Things were quiet between them except for Kageyama humming some song from the party into his ear, nuzzling it. Eventually, it got distracting enough that Hinata stopped walking at the corner of a deserted market, making Kageyama stop too. But he didn’t really seem to notice, still pushing his face into Hinata’s neck. His vampire cloak fluttered around them both.

“Whatcha doing?” Hinata turned his head to ask into Kageyama’s cheek, amused.

He hummed again and tightened his arms around Hinata, rolling his forehead on the redhead’s cheek. “Just… thinking.”

Hinata pushed his head into the crook of Kageyama’s neck. “Yeah? ‘Bout what?”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, skimming the tip of it along Hinata’s neck, then shoulder. “How good you looked earlier,” he murmured lowly. “How good you felt.”

Heat warmed Hinata’s face and his lips curled into a smile. The mime costume wasn’t the _only_ one he bought this year, much to Kageyama’s surprise. And when he told Kageyama he was finished getting ready for the party, emerging from their shared bedroom in a tight little cheerleading uniform, Kageyama literally dropped the phone he was holding to cross their small living room in three strides and shove him right back into the bedroom.

They were late to the party.

Somehow, Hinata didn’t mind.

Kageyama’s arms tightened more, and he shuffled a little closer, pressing against Hinata bodily. He dipped his head further to nuzzle against Hinata, all tender and soft, pressing close-mouthed kisses against his neck. His warmth enveloped the smaller man against the chilly October air.

“Wanna do it again,” Kageyama murmured softly. “Wanna… _mmm.”_ He pressed his hips against Hinata’s ass and stayed there, letting Hinata feel him.

The words vibrating against his neck were reverberating through Hinata’s body. Even though they fucked, like, an hour and a half ago, he could feel his body start to react to Kageyama’s actions, his words. This was verging on inappropriate for public, but a quick glance around confirmed they were still alone.

In fact, they were _quite_ alone. It was almost odd. Of course, it was a bit late, but it was also _Halloween,_ a holiday wherein people were meant to stay out late, on a Saturday night, no less. And here, on this usually-bustling market street, there was… no one. Not one person. Not a soul.

The eerie vastness of the street shook Hinata from the warm, horny haze Kageyama shrouded over him all the time, and he raised a hand to press it against the side of Kageyama’s face.

“’yama, let’s go,” he exhaled. “Wanna see the school.”

Kageyama hummed a pitiful little “mm-mmh” in protest, squeezing his arms, impossibly, even tighter around Hinata. His childish obstinance made Hinata roll his eyes before he extracted himself from his demandingly touchy boyfriend.

“Come _on,_ it’ll be fun,” he said, reaching up to smooth Kageyama’s dumb pout from his eyebrows. “Oh, you big baby,” Hinata breathed, closing the distance between them to press an obscenely open kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth, and six wet seconds later, Hinata promised on a breath against his lips, “I’ll make it up to you later.”

Kageyama took his time to process this before evidently making up his mind, ducking his head to peck at Hinata’s mouth and missing by only a little bit before reaching down to adjust himself in his black jeans— _“vampires wear black, dummy-yama, you can’t wear blue jeans with that cape”—_ and nodding to Hinata to lead the way.

Hinata bit back a smile and spun on his heel to lead the way, resolutely ignoring the fondness spreading in his chest when he caught Kageyama’s eyes dropping to his ass after he turned around. One-track-mind Tobio. Volleyball, sex, cuddles.

He hoped he never changed.

However, the eerily empty market street made the heat from Kageyama’s affections rapidly dissipate, and after a few minutes of this coldness seeping in, Hinata spoke up, voice quiet. “Did you believe any of that? At the party?”

Kageyama took a second to respond. “Any… of what?”

Hinata kicked at the ground as they walked. “Any of the stuff Noya said. The _onryō_ stuff.”

“Oh,” Kageyama said, looking at their feet. “No.”

Hinata waited for him to elaborate, and after no further response, he prompted, “No? That’s it?”

His boyfriend shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know, it sounds made up.” And a few contemplative moments of quiet from Hinata had Kageyama saying slowly, “You shouldn’t either.”

Hinata picked his head up to look at Kageyama, who was watching him slyly from the corner of his stupid pretty eye. “Why not?”

“Because,” Kageyama said, pulling Hinata closer to him by his suspender as they walked, “it’s just a ghost story.”

“Well yeah, but…” Hinata started, his shoulder now pressed to Kageyama’s bicep. “Noya seemed like he believed it. And I trust Noya.”

Kageyama blinked slow. “Noya… was drunk. Is drunk. Probably.”

Affection warmed Hinata’s chest. “You’re kinda drunk, too.”

Several seconds crawled by before the taller man’s eyebrows drew together belatedly in a stubborn scowl. “Am… not.”

The effect of his glare was lessened by how three seconds later he stumbled a little over a broken piece of sidewalk.

A pleasant, subdued silence settled between them then, as they entered the empty neighborhoods that surrounded Karasuno. Though streetlights were far and few, the moonlight was more than enough to guide them, flooding all color in greys and blues. The silence, while comforting between the two men, was chillingly vacuous outside their little bubble. Bizarrely, they still saw no one—no children trick-or-treating, no parents chaperoning, no students partying.

Utterly alone.

“’yama?” Hinata asked quietly. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Kageyama screwed his mouth to the side for one thoughtful moment before his resounding, “No.” Both of their voices were hushed, as if neither of them wanted to disturb their surroundings.

As if they were afraid to wake something.

“Why?”

“Because…” he started slowly, apparently corralling his thoughts, “…all of the stuff that happens in ghost stories… can be explained by other things.”

A simple enough explanation. Hinata took this in, turning it over in his mind, and with a quiet sort of certainty, Hinata responded, “I believe in ghosts.”

“Why?” Kageyama asked. Not combative, only curious.

Hinata chewed on it, wanting to answer in a manner that felt most true to how he felt. With the alcohol fogging his thoughts, Hinata struggled with getting his brain in order. “There are so many ghost stories,” he began carefully. “And people have told them for so long. There must be… millions of them.”

Pause. Inhale. He could still smell the musty fog machine odor that stained his clothes at the party.

“And,” he continued, slow and deliberate, “for ghosts to be real, it only takes one of those stories to be true.”

If Hinata could look back on this Halloween night and pinpoint the moment the evening changed, one moment that hinted at what was to come, it would be that one. There, two men killing a buzz with cool autumn air, drifting through their vacant childhood neighborhoods as they spoke mildly about ghosts and the unknown, something intangible in the atmosphere shifted. Coldness from the outside began to seep in.

Though they didn’t realize it at the time, their little bubble had popped.

Kageyama was quiet, and ultimately did not respond to what Hinata said, though Hinata didn’t feel ignored—he knew Kageyama was just. Thinking. A hound howled sorrowfully in the distance.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at Karasuno High School, home of the Wingless Crows, home of some of the most important years of Hinata’s life. This school had changed the course of Hinata’s life, in more ways than one, and for that reason, it would always hold a special place in Hinata’s heart.

Wordlessly, they both stopped at the front gate, regarding their old campus, their old haunt.

However, it seemed… off.

Haunted, almost. As if the very grounds on which the campus stood were damned.

The front building, the one where all their classmates and school faculty once cheered from the windows when they made it back from their final match against Aoba Johsai, no longer seemed so welcoming. Rather, the building _loomed,_ menacing and empty. It made the air feel heavier.

The cherry blossom trees, the ones that so beautifully frame the entrance of the school each spring, creaked forebodingly around them, dying their seasonal deaths, petals the color of old blood.

Hinata hadn’t realized he had expectations for his feelings until this moment. Seeing their old campus, he had expected to feel… warmth. Fondness. Nostalgia, perhaps, as memories, good and bad, flooded them both.

This was… not that.

A chilling breeze whistled through the blossoms overhead.

Hinata chanced a glance at his boyfriend. He was no longer pressed to his side. Actually, in an uncharacteristic move for Kageyama, he was further away than he thought he was, and Hinata had to take several steps to reach him again. When his arm brushed against Kageyama’s, the taller man startled a little, snapped out of whatever was going through his mind.

“Hey,” Hinata said, voice low. “We don’t have to go in there, we can just go home.”

Hinata thought maybe Kageyama was going to agree, that maybe Kageyama was getting the same spooky vibes he was, but after a few seconds’ deliberation, he tilted his head toward campus. “No, we’re already here. Let’s go.”

Hinata followed his boyfriend through the front gates of the school, and they walked around the front building to access the rest of the campus. The whole school struck Hinata as odd, especially at this hour, and something about the weirdness of this moment lingered for him.

Shadows from the buildings and trees, stark in the bright light from the full moon, were unfamiliar and dark. The campus seemed smaller than it did when they were young, dwarfed by their own shadows that stretched before them, silhouettes longer now than they were as students. A ghostly reflection of how much they’d grown since their Karasuno days.

The school was, obviously, deserted. Just like the surrounding neighborhoods. Just like the markets surrounding those neighborhoods. The uncanny vacancy of the schoolgrounds held some profound meaning to Hinata that he was not able to dissect right away. It wasn’t until they walked together to the outdoor corridor, the one that joined the volleyball gym and the east building, the very corridor in which Hinata and Kageyama both stood helplessly when they were locked out of their first volleyball practices, that the reason for Hinata’s unease hit him.

Karasuno was a transition for Hinata and Kageyama and the rest of its students and faculty. It was a transitory location, liminal in its existence. Hotel rooms, gas stations, schoolgrounds—none of these had any sort of permanency for those that occupy them. They exist only in in-between moments.

This school, bathed in moonlight and devoid of life, represented things that were, and things that will be, but not the things that _are._

And here they were, standing in the middle of that liminal space, one that stretched to infinity.

A wave of vertigo crashed over Hinata as he, suddenly, had a very distinct feeling, persistent and loud in his head, that they were _not_ supposed to be there.

“Kageyama,” he whispered, urgency evident in his tone. He reached over to grab at his boyfriend, but he was not next to him. Panic seized Hinata’s throat for one terrible second before he spotted Kageyama at the edge of the courtyard, a dozen yards away. He was far away again—even further than last time why does he keep doing that?

Hinata darted over to him and tugged on his stupid vampire cape. “’yama, we need to leave.”

Kageyama didn’t respond. He kept staring at the blank wall of the volleyball gym, as if something were beckoning his gaze there. Hinata yanked his cloak again, harder this time, squeaking, “’yama!”

Kageyama turned to him, dazed and blinking slowly. Hinata searched his eyes frantically. “Are you still that drunk? What’s wrong with you?”

His words seemed to wake him up, and he shook his head a little, blinking away the dazedness. “No,” he mumbled. Then, more confidently, “No, I’m fine. I want to go.”

Hinata shot him a _yeah, no shit_ look before grabbing his arm and taking off. It started as a hurried walk for about five steps before Hinata broke into a sprint, pulling a bumbling Kageyama along. Fortunately, Kageyama eventually got with the fucking program and kept up on his own, and they dashed all the way back through the campus. The urgency that coursed through Hinata’s blood amplified the closer they got to the entrance, and it drove Hinata to run harder, feet pounding against the pavement, heart racing, and the second they crossed over the gated boundary of the school, he could feel his blood pressure lower almost immediately.

They stood there, once again under the dying cherry blossoms, catching their breaths, and staring at each other. Kageyama rubbed his arm, massaging where Hinata was clutching it. Oops.

“Sorry,” Hinata said between pants.

Kageyama shrugged and looked away. Then, rubbing the back of his neck, he said uncertainly, “Hey, uh. I kinda don’t want us to be alone tonight.” It almost sounded like a question. Hinata loved him so much. “My parents’ house is close by, you wanna crash there?”

Music to Hinata’s ears. He nodded and they both took off, tense and uneasy and sober, in the direction of Kageyama’s childhood home. A dog howled, long and low, somewhere nearby.

And only a few minutes later, not far from the campus, Hinata’s nose wrinkled. “Do you smell something?” Hinata looked over at his boyfriend, who was already pinching his nose.

Kageyama shoved Hinata away. “Dumbass, what did you eat?”

Hinata squawked. “It wasn’t me!”

No, it wasn’t, but something _reeked._ The odor was heavy, and Hinata could smell it on each inhale, lacing normal, _breathable_ air with something putrid. With each passing second the funk got stronger, suffocating in its intensity.

Hinata and Kageyama both knew what the smell was, even if neither wanted to admit it.

Everyone did.

The rotten stench of decay.

And Hinata and Kageyama appeared to be approaching the source of that smell when they finally saw the first person they’ve seen all night—since the party.

A woman sat alone on a street bench, weeping into her hands. _Bawling_ was perhaps a more accurate word. Her slight body was wracked with sorrow, shoulders heaving violently and head ducking with the force of each sob.

And even though this woman—clearly in need of help—didn’t _seem_ threatening in that moment, the hairs on Hinata’s arms stood on end, as if sensing peril were near. Something about this scene unnerved Hinata; something seemed decidedly Not Right. Unbidden, a thought flashed through Hinata’s mind, lightning fast: _it’s her, it’s the girl from the story._

Only, she did not resemble Noya’s recount of her. Nothing about her was ethereal, no floating, nothing. She seemed as real as Kageyama or Hinata himself. He may have believed she were as real as them too, if not for one thing:

Despite the forceful sobs hurling through this poor woman’s body, she was completely silent. She didn’t make a single sound. Not one.

And as Hinata realized this, a pit formed in his gut. He was starting to feel dizzy again, like he did back at the school, and it was all he could do to stand there quietly, watching the mysterious woman. It was as if they were watching an old film, all action and no noise. She seemed so out of place, so unsettling and foreign, and Hinata could feel the pit in his gut get bigger, greedily carving out space in his abdominal cavity.

“Kageyama,” Hinata whispered, quiet as a ghost. “Should…” Hinata trailed off. He was breathing through his mouth. He chomped it closed to control his breath. He started again, “Should we help her?”

His boyfriend gave no verbal response, but Hinata could assume what his answer would be.

She stopped crying, sudden and unnatural.

That was all. Her body simply stilled, face still in her hands. Though there was no reason for it, Hinata knew, deep in his bones, that she stopped crying because of them.

Then panic struck Hinata’s heart.

 _Her face._ If it _is_ the girl, the one from Noya’s stupid story, what of her face? Will it drip with blood, her skin sliding off bone in vile chunks? Will it bubble with blistering, boiling skin? Or will it reflect some other unnamed, unthinkable horror that left her so unidentifiable that she—she—

Nothing was said. Nothing could even be _heard_ in the vacuum of sound they were currently standing in. And yet, as if Hinata blared an airhorn, or if Kageyama fired a gun into the sky, her head snapped up to look directly at them.

Noya was wrong.

Her face.

She—

She had no face.

Hinata’s stomach plummeted.

Smooth, featureless skin stared them, though she had no eyes with which to see. Malevolence emanated from her, though she had no teeth to bare. Hinata's ears started to ring, buzzing with crackling fright, and the dizziness got worse. Despair spread like an icy whisper through his body, and he stood stock still, not daring to breathe, absolutely frozen to the concrete below his shoes. His skin prickled harshly under her eyeless gaze.

And then her visageless head started to turn, cocking slowly to the left. Her black hair fell sickly over her shoulder in knotty, matted clumps. Curious. Ominous.

She was not just looking. Hinata could feel it. She was _watching._

He could also feel something was about to happen. Something bad.

And then her head turned more, creaking just past her neck’s natural stopping point, until her empty face was parallel with the ground beneath her. Her hair hung limply from her dead scalp, falling straight down.

Time between what was and what will be. That was where they were. Where they did not belong.

That time was coming to an end.

Hinata’s whole body started to tremble, knees knocking together, eyes dilated wide with pure, unadulterated fear. The world was starting to tip.

Something bad was going to happen.

Not wanting to take his eyes from the contorted, ghoulish thing in front of him, he shot his hand out blindly, searching, wanting to ground himself with the stoic, solid presence that was _Kageyama,_ but once again, for the third time that night, Hinata’s hand whipped through air. He was not there.

Dread gripped Hinata’s throat like a vice, yet he found himself still unable to move, his instincts torn between _fight_ or _flight._ His eyes bulged with terror. _Fuck_ he had to move he had to move, where was Kageyama?! Where did he keep going, why did he keep leaving, they need to get the fuck out of—

His frenzied panic was interrupted by a nauseating crack as her head crunched further to the left. That sickening sound was what finally fucking kickstarted the rest of his body into _flight_ and his legs snapped into action.

He spun, still watching the girl, and took off, and almost immediately ran smack into his fucking idiot of a boyfriend who was just fucking _standing there._ He shoved into him, roughly grabbing onto his shoulders, and manhandling him away from the thing, the _girl,_ yelling directly into Kageyama’s ear, “Go!”

He jumped, and then hightailed in a bolt, following Hinata’s lead. Hinata had never run so fucking fast in his goddamn _life,_ yet he still felt he couldn’t move fast enough. It was as if they were in a dream, and his brain was screaming at his body to _run!_ and he was trying, trying to run, but he fucking _couldn’t._ He was at his body’s maximum capacity, sprinting away from the nightmare that sat innocuously on a street bench.

Petrified, he shot a glance backward, _knowing_ he was going to find her doing something—chasing them in some contorted crawl, probably screeching or something even though she didn’t have a fucking _mouth_ because she was a _monster—_

But nothing was there. Just a street bench. Like no one was there in the first place.

Hinata squeezed his eyes shut, running as hard as he could, and then realized how stupid that was and opened them again. Kageyama was a half-pace ahead of him. Hinata remembered that they were going to Kageyama’s parents’ house, and suddenly, that didn’t seem very far away. Not far enough away from where the girl was.

And then it literally wasn’t very far away as Hinata slowed up on Kageyama’s parents’ driveway. The lights in the windows were dark.

Kageyama’s house was just as quiet as the rest of his neighborhood.

“Where are your parents?!” Hinata hissed after his boyfriend, who sprinted all the way up to the front door, and then crouched to pick up a stone hide-a-key.

“I don’t know,” he panted, rising from his crouch and hurriedly unlocking the door. His boyfriend’s hands were shaking, and for some reason, Hinata had the brain capacity to be struck by how odd that was, seeing his cool and collected boyfriend be that stressed. It made Hinata realize his whole _body_ was shaking though, so he shoved up against Kageyama to push him through the door, scrambling to slam it shut behind them.

They stared at each other with wide pupils in the dark foyer, backs pressed against the front door, chests heaving. Hinata’s heart was going to beat out of his chest.

A long moment crawled by while they stood there trembling, catching their breath. And as adrenalin bled slowly from their bodies, Kageyama dragged a palm down his face, mumbling, “What the fuck.”

Hinata couldn’t agree more. He slid down the door and sat on the tiled foyer floor, bringing his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as he could. He sort of wanted to cry. He spoke into his knees. “What was that?” His voice was shaky.

Kageyama joined him on the floor, though he stretched his legs out before them, kicking his shoes off. Then, he huddled close, gluing their bodies together. He could feel tension start to seep from Kageyama, just from the touch, just from being close to Hinata. Something about it stoked jealousy in Hinata, how easy it seemed for Kageyama to calm down, but the feeling was gone in a second.

His boyfriend made a small noise, a guttural little one in his throat, and nestled his broad shoulders into Hinata’s side. He made no more conversation.

The two sat in silence for an indeterminable amount of time. Somewhere between a few minutes and an hour, just staring off into space, no thoughts in either head. The house was utterly silent, save a clock ticking somewhere from the living room. And as Hinata’s brain and heart and lungs and _everything_ slowed down, he found it in himself to ask in a small, scared voice, “Was that her?”

There was only slight hesitation before he felt his boyfriend give a little shrug.

Hinata knocked his head to Kageyama’s temple. “What do we do now?”

Kageyama didn’t respond for a moment, thinking, before he peered up at Hinata with big eyes. “Movie?”

And that was how Hinata found himself thirty minutes later being spooned by his boyfriend in a nest of blankets, watching some cheesy slasher flick that neither of them cared about. When Kageyama protested watching a goddamn _horror movie_ after what they just went through, Hinata insisted that _it’s still Halloween yamayama and besides, who is scared of slasher movies anyway?_ An empty box of matcha-flavored mochi lay discarded on the coffee table; a vampire cape, suspenders, an ascot, and two sets of pants lay crumpled of the floor, and Hinata was curled on his side, warm and safe in his boyfriend’s strong arms.

Kageyama texted his parents, who were apparently, _inconveniently,_ out of town, that they will be staying the night. Hinata felt a twinge of nostalgia, that rare teenaged feeling of having the house to oneself on a Saturday night. This whole night felt pseudo-nostalgic, but in this instance, it made Hinata’s gut feel fuzzy and warm and decidedly _not_ awful.

Every now and then, Hinata could swear he heard something in the house—some mysterious creaks or thuds, but every time Hinata would still and whisper _what was that,_ Kageyama would just pinch his hip and tell him to _stop freaking yourself out dumbass, tonight has been bad enough._

And once he was able to actually, for real, make his body stop shaking and calm himself down, Hinata found he was _exhausted._ It turned out it was draining to run for your life several times in one night.

On TV, they watched a couple fuck like bunnies while a psychopath in a nondescript hockey mask murdered their friends outside their window. Kageyama’s fingers were trailing up and down his hip.

“Why is there so much sex in these movies,” Kageyama murmured in Hinata’s ear, his head propped up on his hand.

The blonde’s fake breasts on screen bounced obscenely as she rode some douchebag into the bed. Hinata shrugged sleepily, yawning, “It’s what the people want.”

“Not me,” Kageyama muttered.

“Mm?” Hinata hummed. “You don’t want sex?”

He paused. “I never said that.”

A lazy smile curled Hinata’s lips. “I think you did.”

“You’re stupid,” Kageyama grumbled into Hinata’s hair. Hinata could hardly hear him over the blonde’s moans.

The sex scene abruptly ended with the killer breaking into the room. Fortunately for them, they were able to get away. Unfortunately for Hinata and Kageyama, the girl stayed gratuitously topless until she, too, fell victim to the psychopath’s machete. Her screams as she was killed sounded disturbingly similar to the ones she made in bed.

Hinata snorted at a particularly absurd scene involving a boat and the movie’s tagline, and he turned back to see his boyfriend’s reaction. He wasn’t watching the movie though—Kageyama’s hooded eyes were on his face, and they shamelessly met his own when he turned around, oozing languid and sleepy affection.

“Hey,” Hinata said, reaching up to run his fingers through silky black hair.

Kageyama hummed at the sensation, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they stared at each other for a beat, before Kageyama whispered, “I’m really glad we made it back okay.”

And rather than responding verbally, Hinata pulled him down into a grateful kiss. Kageyama sighed contentedly into his mouth, kissing him back slow and open and wet. They made out, unhurried and lazy, as people were savagely murdered on the TV in front of them.

After only a few minutes of this, Kageyama shifted Hinata so he could press his hips to Hinata’s ass. Hinata gasped and pushed right back, grinding against him under the cozy blanket that engulfed them both. He was weary and exhausted and already half-hard—Kageyama even more so. They were two men in their mid-twenties. Not even encountering a literal nightmare would stop them from boning.

Because of the slightly awkward angle, Hinata had to twist his upper body to continue kissing his boyfriend, and it caused his striped mime shirt to ride up his waist. Kageyama took advantage by slipping a hand inside to smooth up his chest and then drag down, down, down to Hinata’s boxer briefs that clung snugly to his body. He cupped him through the dampening fabric, squeezing briefly.

Hinata promptly felt like he was going to _die_ if he didn’t get to feel Kageyama’s skin on his, so he wriggled his hips under the blanket where it was gummy and hot, managing to peel his underwear just low enough to free his cock and his ass. Compulsively, Kageyama smacked a hand to one of Hinata’s cheeks and squeezed the generous flesh there, like a man possessed, like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself even if he tried. Hinata’s breath hitched, and Kageyama hummed a pitiful noise into Hinata’s neck.

Unceremoniously, Kageyama shoved his own boxers down just under his balls and pressed against his boyfriend again. They let out twin sighs at the sticky skin to skin contact, and Kageyama used his grip where he was still kneading Hinata to spread him a little, enough to slide his dick in between and _god,_ Hinata needed to get fucked _now._

Kageyama was breathing heavy in his ear. His fingers crept inward, slipping between Hinata’s cheeks to rub over Hinata’s hole, and then Kageyama let out a low groan. “You’re still so loose,” he breathed, sleepy and horny. “And so _wet._ Is…” he backed off for a second, presumably looking down between their bodies and slipping some of that shininess between his fingers. “Is this me? From before?”

Hinata nodded deliriously, pushing his hips backwards with mindless insistence, and Kageyama let out another groan, gathering Hinata in his arms and pulling him close. Hinata could feel fresh wetness leak from Kageyama against his lower back.

“You’ve been walking around like this?” He murmured lowly into Hinata’s ear. “Since we left?”

Hinata nodded again. His face felt hot.

As Kageyama processed this, his fingers dug harder into Hinata’s flesh. Wanting a reaction, Hinata breathed, “You gonna fuck me, ‘yama?” He was undulating his hips now in slow rolls against the hard line of his boyfriend.

Kageyama growled, then gripped his hip roughly to still Hinata’s movements. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Let me—” He pulled his cheeks apart with his palms, and Kageyama canted his hips forward impatiently. The fat, blunt tip of Kageyama’s cock nudged at his hole. “Can I just—”

“Yeah yeah,” Hinata interrupted on his exhale, nodding desperately, and arched back against him. Kageyama tipped his hips forward a little more, all careful and restrained and— _oh._

After the first bit of initial resistance, Hinata could feel his body give. The angle allowed him to slip the tip of his cock inside, the friction eased by old come and lube. He didn’t even have to use his hands.

 _“Oh,”_ Kageyama grunted, and fuck, it was probably _tight_ for him, given how thick Kageyama was, given the discomfort Hinata was feeling. It wasn’t too bad though—he sort of liked the pain. Hell, he _had_ to when he had a boyfriend as big as Kageyama.

He liked it even more when Kageyama dropped a hand to stroke him while he adjusted, and Hinata showed his appreciation by working himself further down on his boyfriend’s swollen cock.

 _“Fuck,”_ Kageyama growled. “Slow down, dumbass. You’re gonna hurt—”

“’m fine,” Hinata breathed, seating himself back completely so his back was flush against Kageyama’s chest. “I like it.”

 _“God,”_ Kageyama choked on his exhale, pulling out a little before pushing back inside wetly. Knowing _why_ he was sliding so easily made Hinata feel so filthy, so used.

He _loved_ it.

Kageyama released his cock to pull Hinata in close again, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other curling up from under Hinata’s body to cut across his chest, palming his shoulder. Hinata felt boneless and soft, and he let Kageyama hold him up as he started to fuck him in slow, sleepy thrusts.

A few hazy minutes rolled by in indistinct pleasure—neither of them really chasing anything, just enjoying the slick, puffy sensation of Kageyama sliding in and out of the smaller man. If Hinata were being honest, he would be fine with not coming tonight—hell, he already _did_ tonight, earlier—he was happy with just this. Kageyama fucked him so _well._ He loved losing himself to feeling of it, of _Kageyama,_ thick and hard inside his body, gliding in… out... in—

Hinata gasped suddenly, gripping his boyfriend’s forearm. “Wait,” he wheezed, tapping Kageyama insistently. “Wait, wait, ‘yama. Stop for a second.”

With a reluctant little grunt, Kageyama stilled his hips. _“What,_ Shou.”

They laid there panting for a couple beats, before Hinata whispered, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what,” Kageyama asked, not quite a question.

“That noise!” Hinata squeaked. Kageyama started to say something, but Hinata shushed him hard, finger over his shoulder. He could have _sworn_ he heard something, a thud or something from the kitchen. Was it the girl again? That nightmare from the bench, did she follow them home?

Hinata laid there stock still, waiting to hear something else, body tense and no longer weary. It was as if his body remembered what happened earlier, as if his adrenal glands perked their little adrenal-gland-ears and were already rearing to go.

After another few seconds of silence, Kageyama groaned pathetically, knocking his forehead to Hinata’s orange hair. “Shou, _please._ I’m still _inside_ you—I-I wanna—” Though he was already flush against his ass, he pressed his hips forward, pushing himself further inside the smaller man. Like the stillness was agony for Kageyama. Hinata’s eyes rolled back involuntarily.

He supposed he could relate.

 _“Ah,”_ Hinata grunted in response, reflexively pushing back. “O-okay, yeah— _ah_ , go—ahead—” he managed, but Kageyama was already starting up again with tight, controlled little thrusts, resuming their previous pace, and then he pushed past that almost immediately.

Hinata gripped Kageyama’s forearms, needing something to hold onto as Kageyama started to fuck him with purpose now, steady and strong, using his hold on Hinata’s body as leverage. Even though Hinata loved slow and sleepy sex with his boyfriend, he loved this too—the unforgiving rhythm, how Kageyama fucked him hard and relentless. He didn’t know which he preferred.

Hinata just loved sex with Kageyama.

Hinata shoved the blankets down, suddenly feeling too hot and overheated. He met Kageyama thrust for thrust, the sounds of skin slapping and harsh breaths loud in Kageyama’s childhood living room, murder movie and mysterious kitchen sounds momentarily forgotten.

It wasn’t long before Hinata could feel his orgasm start swelling inside of him, building like a wave. The angle was _heavenly,_ it was so good, Kageyama was so _good._ It seemed like it was always like this. His boyfriend filled him so wonderfully, stretched him to his limit, every single time. _God,_ he loved him so much.

He dropped a hand to his own leaking cock—where precum was stringing thinly from his tip to the sofa upholstery, oops—and jacked himself in time to Kageyama’s pace, which was starting to break down. His thrusts were faltering, shallow and quick now, never quite leaving him entirely.

“Shouyou—” he breathed hotly into his ear, an edge to his voice that made Hinata’s stomach flip. “I’m close—”

Hinata was nodding, jerking his arm faster, exhaling, “Me too, ‘yama—keep— _hah—_ keep going—”

“That’s it that’s it that’s it,” Kageyama ground out, brainless and unthinking. “I’m—I’m gonna— _fuck—”_

Kageyama broke off in a groan as he instinctively locked his hips forward so he could empty himself inside his boyfriend for the second time that day, breeding him right there on his parents’ fucking couch. The wet sensation of Kageyama spilling inside him brought Hinata to the brink of his own orgasm, and he had just enough foresight to grasp the tip of his cock to catch his release before they ruined the upholstery even more. Come filled his palm and squished lewdly between his fingers.

They stilled, breathing and heart rates rapid but slowing. Kageyama pressed a sweet little kiss at his neck, and then burrowed his face there, hugging Hinata to him like a stuffed toy.

Hinata watched the film that was still playing on the TV with a hazy, foggy mind while Kageyama indiscriminately kissed the side of his face—not paying attention even a little bit as to where—and ended up on his temple. Then he kissed him there again, and again, and Hinata laughed and swatted him away.

“Careful when you pull—“ Hinata warned, but it was too late, Kageyama already sliding out of him and letting come fall out of him like a spout. Thankfully, Kageyama had fast reflexes, and they were able to save the upholstery _again_ by Kageyama rolling Hinata onto his stomach. Hinata outstretched his sloppy palm, not wanting it to drip on anything. He could feel his boyfriend kneel behind him, and his hands were immediately drawn to his asscheeks where he squeezed and massaged healthy palmfuls of flesh for approximately four seconds before he pulled them apart obscenely.

Hinata didn’t mind. He knew Kageyama liked to look.

 _“God,”_ Kageyama breathed, sounding dazed, as his wet thumb rubbed firmly over his rim. “You look… _wrecked.”_

Hinata peeked back to see Kageyama inspecting the mess he made of Hinata’s body with glassy, dilated eyes. “You…” his boyfriend started, voice low and distracted, and then swallowed. “You look really good like this.”

And even though they’ve been together for _years,_ Hinata still blushed when Kageyama said stuff like that. Embarrassment heated his face, and he hid it in his outstretched arm. “Stop,” he moaned into the couch. “You’re the worst.”

When he didn’t hear any response, he chanced a glance back at Kageyama, whose eyes were filled with such love and tenderness that Hinata almost blushed again. He thought Kageyama was going to lean over and kiss the daylights out of him. Instead, Kageyama broke the moment by giving his ass an obnoxious smooch, and then stood abruptly, tucking himself back into his boxers. His plain white t-shirt was wrinkled. The room stank of sex.

Gracelessly, Hinata rolled off the couch, and then waddled after Kageyama to the kitchen sink to wash all the come off his hands. He pulled his boxers up and walked back to the living room, wincing as the fabric started sticking to his thighs. He was so gross.

He kinda liked it, though.

The screams shrieking from the TV were cut short when Kageyama turned the TV off. “Shower?”

Hinata shook his head. “No,” he responded. “I don’t have clean clothes.”

Kageyama lolled his tongue in his cheek, thinking. “My parents probably have some of my old clothes here,” he said. “Want me to go check?”

Hinata nodded—he really was gross—and Kageyama tossed the TV remote on the couch and walked to the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

And god, despite feeling thoroughly fucked, Hinata could also still feel tension twisting in his gut from what happened earlier near the school, made so much _worse_ with all the goddamn _noises_ he kept hearing in the house. With the movie off, the house seemed incredibly quiet. He could hear muted thudding sounds from upstairs, presumably— _hopefully—_ Kageyama just rooting through some old belongings. Something about that was soothing, hearing what would be mysterious noises, but knowing they were his best friend just looking for clothes to wear brought ease to his anxious heart.

He stood there quietly in his stupid long-sleeved striped shirt and Halloween-themed underwear, listening to his boyfriend upstairs, contentment overpowering the disquiet in his brain.

Until he heard an unmistakable crash sound out from the laundry room.

The laundry room was on the ground floor.

It was a loud crash, more of a booming sound, and it startled Hinata out of his fucking skin. He leapt up and whirled around, breath choked in his throat. With bulging eyes and a hummingbird heart, he watched the dark hallway that lead to the room where the noise originated.

Then, from upstairs: “Hinata?!” Kageyama’s voice rang through, loud and concerned.

“I’m here,” Hinata tried to call, but his voice was little more than a scratch. Dry swallow. Fast footfalls thumped down the stairs, and Kageyama whipped around the last staircase post to find his boyfriend petrified and frozen to the carpet of his parents’ living room.

Kageyama crossed the room in five long strides, pulling Hinata’s trembling body to him. “Hey, shh,” he hushed. “You’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

Hinata had no response. Emotionally, he felt rubbed raw. Too much. Too fucking much. The night had finally crossed that line of _too much,_ and tears started welling up in Hinata’s eyes before he even realized it.

“Hey,” Kageyama murmured again, picking Hinata’s head up and thumbing away his tears. Ire flattened Kageyama’s mouth into a thin line at the sight of Hinata’s watery eyes, and determination hardened his gaze. Without another word, he dropped his hands from Hinata’s face and turned to apparently _kill_ whatever made that sound.

Fright gripped Hinata’s throat and he shook his head in quick, panicked jerks, reaching a hand after his murderous boyfriend in vain. “No, no no, don’t go, just stay here, we should just go home—”

And then something scratched on the front door.

It wasn’t some long, squealing, horror movie scratch like Hinata had fucking come to expect on this awful night, but something quieter and more innocuous. Low on the door.

Hinata’s wide eyes shifted to Kageyama’s back, which was halted and tense right in front of him. They each stood still. Waiting. Listening. Hoping it was their imagination, but then the scratch happened again. And again. Whatever was on the other side of that door was insistent. Impatient.

Like it wanted to come inside.

Hinata was officially too scared to cry anymore. He could see the gears turning in Kageyama’s head, even from behind him, and watched him change his mind, taking one step toward the front door instead of the laundry room.

Hinata, afraid out of his fucking mind, shrieked, “Don’t!” Yet Kageyama, even when frightened, was still _Kageyama_ enough to level him with a glare. His boyfriend made to leave again, but Hinata was absolutely under no circumstances leaving his side again, so he clutched onto his white undershirt and followed him, trembling like an autumn leaf.

They stopped together in front of the door.

Kageyama peered through the eyehole, and Hinata watched him with bated breath, waiting. Kageyama pulled back, blinked, and then ducked to look through it again. Against the door, he whispered, “There’s nothing there.”

“What?!” Hinata hissed. “What do you mean—”

_Scratch._

Fuck shit fuck.

“Something _is_ there!” Hinata whispered fiercely. “What if it’s her again? What if it’s the girl?”

Kageyama backed away from the door and turned to look at Hinata. His mouth was still pressed in a hard line, his eyes big and wide and absolutely ready to destroy whoever or _whatever_ was scaring his boyfriend.

“Fuck it,” he ground out suddenly, and then wrenched the goddamn door open.

And.

It was a dog.

Hinata’s first reaction was glee because _dogs,_ but it died almost the instant he felt it.

Something was wrong with the dog. Not quite right. The dog was small and scrappy, fur dark and wiry. Likely a mutt of some sort. And its fur was matted with some weird brown funk. It stared up at them, eyes lifeless and vacant, its body utterly still.

Kageyama paid the dog no more than a quick glance before he stomped right out the front door to the edge of the porch. He twisted his head around the corner of the house, calling out furiously to whoever may be lurking in the shadows. Hinata hardly noticed. He made no move forward yet, holding the mysterious dog’s eyes.

“Hey buddy,” Hinata murmured. “Are you alright?”

The dog simply stared. Hinata crouched where he stood in front of the dog, giving it some space, and he held his hand out hear the dog’s snout. The dog made no move to sniff his hand. Hinata’s brow furrowed. Odd.

Hinata waddled forward over the door sill, still in his crouch, closing the distance between them. The dog’s eyes followed his own as he got closer. “Hey little guy,” Hinata murmured again, this time closer to a whisper. He didn’t want to scare the dog away. Then, he shot a glare up at his boyfriend, who he just noticed was _still_ shouting into the dark, what the fuck. Kageyama wasn’t helping with this.

 _“Tobio,”_ Hinata hissed, and Kageyama stopped _yelling_ to turn around to face Hinata. Confusion wrinkled his brow when he seemed to finally register a dog was present. Kageyama fell to a crouch without really realizing it—probably just mimicking Hinata—and watched.

Hinata came close enough to the dog that he could actually pet it now, but he really didn’t want to. Up close, the weird brown gunk looked familiar, and a whisper in his mind told him it was dried blood, old wounds sewn up with bloody tissue. He shook the thought away.

Hinata reached for the dog’s collar slowly. The dog seemed docile enough, he didn’t think it would take off, or worse yet, _bite him,_ but the dog also seemed incredibly fucking weird, so who knew?

As Hinata’s fingers closed around the collar, a twig snapped from right around the corner of the house.

Something was there.

Or someone.

Kageyama jumped up from his crouch and whipped his body around to face whatever danger might come, and at the same exact moment, Hinata was able to grasp the dog’s collar and read its name aloud, kanji drawn sloppily in permanent marker directly onto the polyester.

He gasped.

“Tobio,” he whispered. His vision was blotting away, darkness shrouding it, as he held the collar of this dead dog on this horrible Halloween night. His mind was swimming. “The dog’s name…” he trailed off. His voice wasn’t audible at this point anyway.

Hinata believed a part of him knew what would happen this night all along, way back when they were walking to Karasuno, as their buzz and giddiness was slowly replaced by something empty and morose. As they were infected by the outside.

When their bubble popped.

He knew who that girl was.

And he knew exactly who the dog was as soon as he opened the door.

“Akumu,” Hinata whispered, voice nonexistent, staring into the dog’s tired, tired eyes.

And then a voice, dead and croaking, wheezed from behind Hinata, from inside the house.

“Oh good. You found my dog.”


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

Fear paralyzed Hinata from the inside; he froze up and his hair stood on end, some tinny white noise clicking sound taking the place of any and all thought in his mind. Deep in his bones, he could feel it: this was the end. The end to this horrible night, the end to Hinata’s life—perhaps only as he knew it, perhaps absolutely. And it was all he could do to watch wide-eyed as his boyfriend stood, also frozen, peering around the corner of the porch.

“I _said,”_ the voice croaked impatiently, “thank you for finding my dog.”

… What?

Hinata’s brows drew together in bewilderment. His eyes dropped to the dog again, who remained unnaturally impassive.

“You—“ the disembodied voice moaned before it fractured, cracking in an incredibly distinct choke.

 _Incredibly_ distinct. Like, if Hinata didn’t know any better, he would think—

A laugh peeled out from behind him. Hinata’s jaw dropped, and he whirled around to see fucking _Noya_ clutching his stomach and laughing his ass off. He was _pointing_ at Hinata. _Pointing._ Who fucking pointed and laughed? Who even did that?

“You—you were so— _scared—”_ he gasped between belts of laughter. “You should—see your _face—”_

Confusion and anger crunched Hinata’s eyebrows together, and he stood up indignantly, clenching his fists at his sides. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Noya!” He heard a voice yell from behind him, and Hinata spun around to see Tanaka crawling out from the side of the house on his hands and knees, howling laughter at the ground. He caught a glance at Kageyama who seemed completely and totally _unamused._ “That—was so good!”

As Tanaka lost his shit, Asahi stepped out sheepishly from behind him, waving a sheepish hand, smiling a _sheepish smile._ Quietly, he muttered, “Hi guys.” His monster makeup was almost entirely rubbed off.

Hinata had about a thousand questions and a million expletives. He waved back to Asahi without even thinking about it—it was _Asahi_ after all—but then he shook himself out of it, cutting back to Noya to shout, “Explain yourself!”

Noya was wiping away tears that hadn’t spilt from his eyes. His face was shiny and red. “Oh,” he sighed, coming down from his hysteria, and then raised a hand to pinch his own throat, distorting his voice to say, “thanks again for finding my dog.”

“What the fuck?” Hinata demanded, pissed, arms crossed. He hoped he was intimidating when he wasn’t wearing pants.

“That’s what you get for not believing me earlier!” Noya said.

Hinata bristled. _“What? Tanaka_ was the one who didn’t—“ he stopped. Breathe. “So this was just a prank? What about the—” he looked down to see the dog, whose tongue was now lolled out in a doggy grin, simply happy to be there.

“That’s Koko.” The dog perked its ears, and Noya bent at the waist to beckon to it, who trotted forward happily. “She’s my girl, look at how cute she is,” Noya cooed at the pup.

Kageyama stomped forward then, pulling Hinata by his shirt collar through the front door, shoving Noya out, and then slamming the door in his face. Long-suffering groans sounded out from behind the door then, lots of, “Oh come on”s and “we were just having fun!”s from Noya and Tanaka. Kageyama scowled at nothing, unbelievably grumpy, even for Kageyama. He yanked Hinata roughly to his chest, grunting, “Come here.”

Hinata squeaked in surprise but came along willingly. He was still angry, but he seemed positively _cheery_ compared to Kageyama. They stood there for a moment while three morons complained outside the door. Against his boyfriend’s chest, Hinata asked timidly, “You okay, ‘yama?”

He gave a terse grunt in response, tightening his arms protectively around the smaller man. Then, he spoke, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to choose his words carefully. “I thought…” A swallow clicked in his throat. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Emotion lumped in his throat. If you listened closely, you could hear Hinata’s heart fracturing just a tiny bit.

“Hey,” Hinata whispered, not trusting his voice. “Hey, look at me.” He reached on his tip toes to place his hands on either side of his boyfriend’s face, holding both his face and his gaze steady. “We have really dumb friends who have a shit-ass sense of humor.” Kageyama tried to look away, but Hinata ducked his head to maintain eye contact. “We’re okay.”

Hinata kissed whatever part of Kageyama was in front of his face, which happened to be his cheek bone. “I love you,” he said against his skin.

Kageyama watched him for a heavy moment with open eyes and wobbly lips before lifting Hinata by his waist to burrow his face into Hinata’s neck. Hinata flailed a little despite being slightly used to getting picked up by his boyfriend, and Kageyama breathed him in deep, mumbling _I love you too_ into his neck.

He kept him there a moment longer, just inhaling the familiar scent of him and swaying back and forth, before Kageyama gently loosened his hold, letting Hinata down easy on his feet, holding his gaze for one tender moment. Then, in a complete mood reversal, he ripped the door open and stomped off to the living room.

In the dank porch lighting, Noya and Tanaka were still kind of laughing, but Asahi looked truly apologetic behind them, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Hinata rolled his eyes, and then turned, allowing them to follow him inside. “You guys are such assholes.”

The three of them plus dog ambled into the kitchen, while Hinata and Kageyama snuck away to slip their pants on before joining them. They teased and laughed and managed to pull Kageyama out of his mood at least somewhat. Hinata, for one, was super happy to hear that the noises he was hearing in the house were not only real—he was _not_ crazy, thank you very much—but were also harmless. Even the booming one—laundry detergent was apparently very loud when it got knocked to the floor.

“How did you get in here anyway?” Hinata had asked at one point.

“Oh,” Noya, standing there in Kageyama’s parents’ kitchen with wilting grayscale hair and a sad excuse for a wedding dress, looked awkward then, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal his secrets. He glanced around at the expectant eyes staring at him, and he threw his hands up exasperatedly. “While you guys were, um—” he gestured to the couch, “ _—watching the movie,_ I was able to sneak in through the kitchen door.”

Uncomprehending faces stared back at him for several beats. One, two…

Then, “You walked in on us having sex?!” Hinata.

Noya sputtered. “Don’t say it like that! It’s not like I _watched!”_

“Dude!”

“Oh, come on! It was the perfect distraction!”

“Yeah, Kageyama’s dick inside me was the _perfect_ distraction—"

“It fucking was!” Noya insisted, weirdly indignant.

Kageyama was over there fucking _smirking_ like this all amused him greatly. Hinata swore he was going to dump him.

“That was _private!”_

 _“It’s not like I watched!”_ Noya repeated.

“Okay, what about your dog?” Hinata demanded, switching subjects and on a roll now. “Koko? She was acting so weird, all—” he waved a hand through the air, trying to convey what he felt and landed on, _“bwahh.”_

“Aw, she was such a good little actress, wasn’t she?” Noya said in his dog-voice. Asahi was currently sitting on the kitchen floor with Noya’s dog in his lap. Koko was licking at whatever brown gunk matted her fur. Noya continued nonchalantly, “There were painkillers left over from when she was spayed last year, so I slipped her one with some ham earlier. That’s why she was—”

“You _drugged_ your dog?!” Hinata asked disbelievingly.

“What? She’s had them before.”

“You—” Hinata spluttered, suddenly at a loss for words. “You can’t just drug your dog!”

“No, no it’s fine,” Noya assured him. “They were pills _for_ dogs.” As if that was the problem. Hinata would fucking _hope so._

“Yeah!” Hinata cried. “When they’re post-op! Your dog was _high.”_

Noya bristled. “Who doesn’t like getting—"

“What is that?” Kageyama interrupted, pointing at the brown gunk in Koko’s fur. “That stuff.”

“Pudding,” Tanaka proudly cut in then, waving a beer bottle. “It was my idea. Looks like dead stuff or something right?”

“Chocolate isn’t good for dogs, you guys!” Hinata yelped, entirely outraged now. “Who let you guys near animals?” Hinata already was filling a bowl with water, and after a blank look shared between Asahi, Tanaka, and Noya, they frantically jumped into action, wetting paper towels and wiping the dog’s fur and snout clean. Once filled, Tanaka tore the bowl of water from Hinata’s hands and shoved it in the dog’s face, willing her to drink the _poison_ out of her system.

And once the calamity settled again and the dog was contentedly snoozing against Asahi’s thigh, Hinata spoke up from where he was sitting on the kitchen counter when something occurred to him. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers excitedly. “Was that Asahi at the park then? How did you guys do the no-face thing? _That_ one got us super good.”

The three of them shared a look again, this one more blank than the one they shared before. Several long seconds rolled by silently. Hinata shot a curious glance at Kageyama, who shrugged.

Then, Asahi spoke up, slow and hesitant, “What are you talking about?”

Koko’s ears twitched as a dog howled mournfully outside, far, far away.

They all ended up sleeping in the same bed that night.

**Author's Note:**

> no volleyball players or fictional dogs were harmed in the making of this story. i don't think this needs to be said, but just in case: don't drug your dog or feed them chocolate!!! esp not for dumb pranks!!!
> 
> THANK YOU for reading!!! follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/benzaaldehyde) or [tumblr](https://benzaaldehyde.tumblr.com/) if you want to hear me yell about things. 
> 
> and of course...
> 
> 😈👻 happy halloween 🎃💀


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